


Humiliation Tactic

by milkyuu



Category: markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Death Threats, M/M, Omorashi, Wetting, crossposted from tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-22 13:29:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9609473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milkyuu/pseuds/milkyuu
Summary: Mark finds himself in a dim room, tied up alone, with a terrifying stranger...or twin? The whole ordeal would make much more sense to him if he didn't have the overwhelming urge to pee.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Just a warning, this fic contains pee desperatation, wetting/omorashi, violence, kidnapping, and death threats. If that isn't your cup of tea, feel free to leave now. ♡
> 
> This was a request from my tumblr, and this is my first time writing a darker themed fic. Hope you all enjoy nonetheless! I appreciate any and all kudos and comments! :D

Mark looked around he dim room, his eyes adjusting to the darkness.

“Wha-where?” he asked, his voice slurred. Panic filled him as he realized his hands were tied behind him, his legs tied to the chair he sat in. Ropes secured around his lower abdomen kept him tied to the creaky wooden chair. He gasped, the ropes worsening his need to urinate.

Mark began to pant, light filling the cold and empty room all at once. At last, he could make out his surroundings - an old run down basement of some sorts. Boxes and junk surrounded him and the chair. Collected dust and rusted walls upset him more. One detail he couldn’t get over was the tripod and camera in front of him. Wait…was it recording?

“Hello there,” said a mysteriously deep voice, he could almost swear it sounded like…, “I see you’ve finally woken up?”

Mark could feel his heart beating faster and faster as he realized who his attacker was. He gulped, trying to keep his composure - knowing the more he reacted, the longer he would keep this up.

“Why am I here?” Mark asked, cringing as his voice broke in between his words. His memories going back to other encounters with this attacker. His memories reminding him of the pain he brought onto him.

“You don’t remember me? That’s rude,” the other purred into his ear, “I’m you. The real you. The one who you keep hidden under that god awful positivity.”

A shiver of fear ran down Mark’s spine as he finally saw the figure move in front of him. It was him, or at least, he thought it was.

This twin of his was much more, alternative. The tips of his black hair dyed red, a black choker adorning his neck. This twin was clad in dark clothing, a matching red hoodie with the sleeves ripped off, a long sleeved black undershirt underneath. The twin’s wrists hidden away under thick spiked wristbands, fingerless gloves on his hands.

“Just call me Dark. Or if you want to get formal, Darkiplier,” he whispered, producing a small blade from the back pockets of his dark jeans.

“You know with this little thing,” Dark sighed, “and the right spot,” he continued, moving closer to Mark’s neck, “I could watch you gasp on your last bits of air - blood running down your chest?”

Mark began to shake, hyperventilating. He watched Dark laugh at his reaction, fear running through his veins as he questioned if this was it.

His questions were answered as he watched Dark slowly put the knife back to his pocket. His deep, rich, and identical, laugh quieting.

“Calm down, pussy. I’m not gonna do that today. Instead, I have a bit of a plan.”

He began to bite his lip, the adrenaline and fear making his control over his bladder worse. The ropes against his abdomen caused more pressure on his urge with each movement.

“You see, it’s not a secret you’re this huge star. Everyone looks up to you, millions of adorning fans watch your videos and donate to your charities,” Dark paused, turning back around to face Mark, “and I fucking despise it. I hate every little goody two shoes fan of yours and that goody two shoes reputation you have.”

“So here’s my plan, and why I have this little thing here,” he points to the camera, the red light blinking back at Mark, “let’s say, someone were to humiliate this famous ‘markiplier’. Let’s say someone were to record said humiliation and said recording landed in the wrong hands. Would your little fans still stick around when they’ve seen it? Would you still be seen as the good guy, or just become the butt of every joke, an absolute laughing stock?”

“Please,” Mark panted, “I’ll do anything, just don’t kill me. I have friends and family-”

Dark slapped Mark square across the face, his glasses flying off and hitting the cold ground below.

“Like I actually give a shit?! I could end you right fucking now! I could cut your throat open and watch you bleed out. I could slit your mouth ear to ear. I could gut you right now and not feel a fucking thing-”

Dark looked down, noticing movement out the corner of his eye. He could see Mark’s legs squirming, trying to close. He could definitely see Mark’s body quivering as he sobbed.

“It’s already kicking in, hasn’t it?”

Mark continued to sob, “what are you talking about?”

Dark slapped him once more, moving away from him to adjust the camera. He set the tripod much closer, getting Mark’s sitting body in the shot.

“What’s a matter? Are you actually scared, pussy?” Dark smirked, his voice somehow deeper than before.

Mark nodded, anything to keep Dark happy. Or at least content enough to not him him once more. He slowly realized Dark had hit him with the spikes on his wristbands, small droplets of blood trickling down his cheek.

“Stop moving your legs.” Dark commanded.

Mark sobbed as he returned to his normal position, or rather the position Dark tied him up in, legs spread wide and the ropes digging into his bladder.

“Now, I want you to tell me how badly you gotta piss, or else I will put you in a world of pain you would not believe. Understood?”

Mark nodded, watching as Dark got behind the camera. He began to sob once more, large tears spilling from the corners of his eyes.

“C-can I use the ba-bathroom? I need to go,” he cried, “please? I-I won’t tell a-anyone about this. I’ll keep qu-quiet. Just let me go to the bathroom.”

“Why?” Dark asked, encouraging Mark.

“Just let me go! Please, I’m b-begging you!”

Dark produced the knife again, making slow steps towards Mark. Mark yelled as he braced himself, not noticing the leak on his lap, sizable and dark.

“No! Please, no! I-I really need to pee, I can’t hold it in any longer. I can feel my own bladder throbbing. It hurts so bad to keep it all in,” he paused. Dark pointed to the wet spot on Mark’s lap. Mark cried as he swallowed his pride.

Anything to stay alive.

“I c-couldn’t hold it. S-see? I can’t hold it because I’m a scared l-little bitch. I can’t even hold my own p-piss like a normal person. Fuck, please let me go - I’m so close.” he gasped, letting his head drop.

Dark shook his head, a smirk plastered across his face. Mark lifted his head and cried out.

“It’s coming out, I can feel it coming out, oh god I’m going to piss myself here - fuck!”

Mark yelled, his voice hoarse, as his body shook violently. Stopping all at once, he could feel it. The warm wet urine running down his legs, under his ass, into his shoes. The hissing of the pee filling the silence of the quiet basement. Mark whimpered quietly as he continued to pee, the blue fabric of his jeans darkening. The pitter-patter of it hitting the hard floor below, the wooden material of the chair becoming completely soaked.

It took a long 2 minutes for Mark to finally stop, dropping his head in shame once more. Goosebumps running up and down his skin as he noticed the large off yellow puddle below him. He cried, feeling the pee under his ass.

“How fucking pathetic. Couldn’t even hold it in for a few minutes. Look at you did to my floor,” Dark said, stepping up to Mark.

Mark gasped as Dark lifted his leg to press his steel toed boots into his wet crotch. The disgusting sound of his soaked jeans and boxers making him cringe as Dark pressed harder and rougher. Directly into his balls.

“Fuck!” Mark cursed, his voice breaking. He wheezed as Dark continued to press further, the burning pain making him buck back further into the chair. Dark snarled, pressing his boot up further to step on Mark’s wet thighs.

“You’re fucking disgusting. Pissing yourself like some baby. Getting my chair and floor filthy, along with yourself. How fucking pathetic. It’s so laughable how embarrassing you look.”

Mark whimpered loudly. He watched Dark’s eyes widen before drawing his fist back, hitting Mark’s chin. Dark used his other hand, punching him once more in his right temple.

The last thing he saw before losing consciousness was Dark turning off the camera. In those last moments, Mark wondered if he’d wake up again. He wondered what would happen to his friends, his family, even Chica.

Then, there was light. Sudden and harsh light in his eyes. Mark shot up, worriedly looking around. He gripped the sheets of his bed. Wait, when did he…? And what about Dark?

The sweet and relieving realization hit Mark. It was all a nightmare. A horrible nightmare. The pain, death threats, and utter fear was all an illusion. Even the humiliation and wetting - wait.

Mark pulled back his sheets and sighed. Nope, the wetting was real. His soaked pajama pants and sheets told him so. The still warm urine pooled under his lower half, surrounding him. With care, Mark slowly pulled off the wet sheets and blanket. He grabbed a towel before picking up the wet items and placing them in the wash.

He stepped into the bathroom, ready to turn on the shower when he heard a creak behind him. His blood ran cold as he quickly turned around. His fists clenched, ready to defend himself.

He saw nothing. Nothing but the open hallway and his reflection. He turned back, turning on the warm shower, and tried to ignore the fact he could just barely see a figure out the corner of his eye - one with red hair and black clothing.


End file.
